Page 1 of Synced to Us

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Dee

My firm’s meeting ran long, but if the new assistant is as good as her references say, my ten o’clock would’ve moved to eleven fifteen minutes ago.

“Boss is in a mood, huh?” Dennis, my coworker, asks me as we pack up our files on the conference room table.

“Isn’t Larry always?” I respond.

As soon as my remark hits the air, the rest of the team nervously collect their things and leave. If Larry ever caught on that he was talked about after the conferences, there would be nothing quite like being ripped a new asshole before eight in the morning.

As for me, I like to think of myself as a grizzled veteran, unafraid of Larry’s temper. But I keep my voice down, because I’m not a complete masochist. Unlike Dennis Hodge, who usually knows what buttons to push to get everyone to grind their molars. We’re both equal in Larry’s eyes as senior analysts, however, so I try to give Dennis the benefit of the doubt.

Many doubts.

Dennis continues, “Larry didn’t seem too upset with you, though.”

I pause, my laptop halfway into its sleeve. His question is innocent enough with just the right amount of lighthearted flair so as not to ring any alarm bells. Yet, I study him for more clues. His wheat-blond hair is slicked back, as always, away from his angular face and thin, pointed nose. His gray eyes are hidden with lowered lids as he focuses on packing up his portfolio, but his movements are jerky, his lips just a little too thinly pressed together to be relaxed.

“It’s no secret I’m at the top of my game.” I finish packing my leather messenger bag and swing it over my shoulder.

“Yeah, everyone knows you generate the highest returns, including our top client.” Dennis laughs, but it doesn’t lift his mouth. “No wonder Larry sang your praises rather than fling the PowerPoint remote at you like he did poor old Melvin. You’re a lucky chick, Dee.”

I try for an answering smile, but it’s with my teeth. “It took me weeks to navigate market volatility. Months to get the client to trust me.”

Dennis throws up his hands. “Not saying you didn’t work hard. You must’ve to land a client of that caliber. Most of us have been working at it for years and couldn’t bring in that kind of money.”

I incline my head. The conference room is empty, save for him and me, but the resulting quiet isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it seeps into my bones, bracing them. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He shifts the rest of his ledgers into his briefcase.

“Good.” I eye him for a few seconds longer and then move to the door.

“Only that what’s taken some of us a decade, you’ve managed to accomplish in two years.”

I come to a stop.

“The boss must be really into you,” Dennis says to my back.

“He’s into the number of zeros I’ve put in my portfolio, usually beginning with double-digits,” I bite out, refusing to turn around and gift him with my expression. “I’m not immune to Larry’s temper. Don’t you remember last month when I lost a few million? He stripped my hide and threatened the life of my non-existent firstborn child until I could replace the funds. I’ve paid my dues.”

“Sure, sure.” Dennis clears his throat behind me. “But I gotta wonder…”

I sigh. “What, Dennis?”

There’s little point in hearing his answer, but the lying-in-wait part of me, my riled-up center, wants to see how far he’ll go, giving me the excuse to bite back.

Working as a hedge fund senior analyst makes you develop a tough skin, especially when surrounded by power hungry, unscrupulous men. Putting up with their insults, threats, and loaded flattery, always with some sort of sexual innuendo and mostly directed at each other is a job in itself. I’m dealing with top minds who think they’re top dicks, and I figured out fast in order to succeed in this business, I didn’t just require the smarts, I also had to master the rhetoric.

Dennis Hodge, while my equal, has yet to grasp just how fluent I am in Asshole.

“Well, I’m only wondering, did you win Pietro Mattson and his company over with your…talent with men?”

I whirl on my heel, facing him. “Excuse me?”

Dennis widens his eyes and blinks like an innocent baby bird. “Your talent, Dee. Your ability to woo clients and get them to trust you. It’s something us guys just can’t do as well as you, no matter how hard we try, huh? But—you look upset. What kind of skill did you think I was referring to?”

After a beat, I unclench my molars. The resulting ache spreads through my words. “I don’t have to explain my clients or my strategy to you.”

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